


Reunions: Lindsey/Angel

by Menomegirl



Category: Angel/Highlander
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-04-08
Updated: 2004-04-08
Packaged: 2017-10-03 05:51:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,049
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14882
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Menomegirl/pseuds/Menomegirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Opening sequence is set during the 19 hours sometime in the last two episodes of Ats, and I wrote it as I would have seen opening credits.  The rest is set ten years into the future. Strictly AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunions: Lindsey/Angel

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Algerina's Bronze: Beta contest.

~~Reunions~~

 

 

_Previously_

 

In Lindsey's living quarters:

Lindsey: "What the hell are you doing here?'

Angel: "I came to ask you a question."

Lindsey: "Damn, you, too? What do you want to know? How to connive and manipulate people, then betray them when they believe in you the most?"

Angel: "You're an such a bastard, Lindsey."

Lindsey: "Yeah, well, I pretty much think you are, too. So, I guess that makes us even. Ask me your question, and then you can get the fuck out of here."

Angel: "I just came to ask you why you felt like you deserved to have your heart ripped out every day?"

Lindsey looks at Angel a minute, shrugs, then answers: "That's none of your business, and if you really cared, you'd have asked before now, Angel. Why the hell did you bother to come get me, anyway?"

Angel: "I had to. It was the only way to let the others in on the apocalypse brewing.'

Lindsey frowns, then says: "Right. Well, I'm not answering your question. Now why don't you just get the hell out of here, and I can go back to my game of solitaire."

Angel: "Don't you give a damn about _anything_, Lindsey?"

Lindsey: "Why the hell should I? Nobody ever gave a damn about me. Not my family, not Holland, not Lilah, not you, not Darla,. Hell, not even Eve. Give me one good reason I should give a damn about any of this."

Angel: "Because it's the right thing to do."

Lindsey looks blank for a minute, then begins to laugh: "The right thing to do."

Angel (after grabbing Lindsey and shaking him): "Stop laughing, dammit!"

Lindsey: "But it's just so damn funny."

Angel looks extremely frustrated, then he suddenly pulls Lindsey forward, and kisses him, hard.

Lindsey stops laughing, and jerks back, staring at Angel in shock. He licks his lips, opens his mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. He presses his lips together, shakes his head, then steps forward again, to kiss Angel back.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Later, in Lindsey's bedroom:

 

Angel: "Lindsey, we need to talk about what just happened."

Lindsey: "Let's not make an issue out of it. In fact, let's not talk about it at all. Frankly, I'd like to forget about it."

Angel: "How can you say that?"

Lindsey (looking at Angel very calmly): "It happened, okay? That doesn't mean we have to make a big fucking deal about it."

Angel: "It _is_ a big deal! We can't pretend that didn't happen!"

Lindsey laughs bitterly, then says: "We had sex, man, that's all that happened. What did you think it was? _Bells ringing, fireworks, a dulcet choir of pretty little birdies?_ Come on, Angel. We aren't teenagers. You've kept me locked up here for weeks, no contact, no visitors, not even Eve. You touched me and I responded. Get over it and move on."

Lindsey's words hit Angel and he was so shocked, he was momentarily rendered speechless at the remembrance of what they meant to him, and the callousness of those softly spoken words being used by the man he'd just been with. Finally, he says: "That was fucking cold, Lin."

Lindsey smiling nastily: "How does it feel, having your weakness and your faults thrown back in your face, Angel? Doesn't it inspire undying loyalty, and an overwhelming desire to believe in your own redemption?"

Angel silently turns and leaves the room.

Lindsey closes his eyes.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, back in the living area. The room is a shambles, because Lindsey has torn the room apart. He is sitting on the sofa, drink in hand, dressed only in a pair of blue jeans. He finishes the amber liquid in the glass, and gets up to refill it. As he's doing so, Lorne walks in. Lindsey sees him, snorts and downs the drink.

Lindsey (while refilling the glass): "Damn, aren't I Mr. Popular today? Don't see anyone in weeks, then bam! All of a sudden, everyone acts like I'm the key to the universe. What the hell do you want, Lorne?"

Lorne (looking at the devastation of the room): "What happened here, Lindsey?"

Lindsey (shrugging): "Had a talk with Angel. It didn't go well. I really, really don't like him, you know?"

Lorne: "Yeah, I kind of get that."

Lindsey: "What do you want, Lorne? I'm not much in the company mood right now, besides which, you currently hate me, so just spit it out, okay?"

Lorne: "Alright. Earlier today, when we were talking about the Black Thorn, I was busy thinking about Angel, and I didn't pay much attention to what you were saying. But....it's occurred to me that you never came right out and said your plan was to try and join the Black Thorn. Everyone just assumed that it was."

Lindsey (smirking): "Gotta give you guys props. You're all heart, the whole lot of you. Well, tell you what, Lorne. You just keep wondering, go back and help your champion, cause God knows, he needs all the help he can get, since his head's so far up his own ass, he couldn't find his butt with both hands. See, I'm the bad guy, it's what I've always been, and the whole world is just black or white, isn't that right? Hell, even if for _one lousy moment_ you thought maybe I wasn't, you could have come asked me. I'd have talked to you, _you, of all of them, Lorne._ But, you didn't and _now_......shit, now it's just _too damn late_ for you to be having second thoughts. You all thought I'm so damn bad, _such a fucking monster_, y'all put me here, left me for weeks without once coming to ask me a damn thing, and didn't give a shit about my motives at all. Well, ya know what? _You can all go to Hell._ Ask nicely though and I might save you a seat. Now, get the fuck out."

Lorne: "Lindsey-"

Lindsey throws the glass against the wall, where it shatters, and the scent of whiskey fills the air, and he snarls: _"I said, get the fuck out of here. Now!"_

Lorne looked sadly at Lindsey, then turned to leave. Right before he walked out, he paused and softly says: "A long time ago, I had hope for you, Lindsey. I'm sorry." Then he shut the door.

Lindsey whispers: "_Hope._ What the fuck is that?"

He sighed, then made his way back to the bedroom, where he fell onto the bed, curling into a fetal position. The weeping was so utterly quiet, the monitors didn't pick up sound of his sorrow.

Lindsey wished with all his heart that he could have back that moment in time when Holland Manners had offered him that promotion. He wished he'd told him to shove the job straight up his ass. He wished he could take back the horrible things he'd told Angel earlier. He wished a lot of things that night.

But most of all, Lindsey McDonald wished he was dead.

 

###### Ten Years Later

 

_Cause_

 

I watch him emerge from the shadows, and I have a moment where pure rage wells up in me at the very sight of him, the unexpressed emotions that stem from his betrayal consuming me briefly. Champion of the people. Hero to so many. A noble vampire with a soul. Yeah, right, _whatever._

Angel's a jerk, he always was. Just the fact that he'd show up now---when it's too late to say I'm sorry or hell....._anything_ to sooth the pain in Lorne's soul tells me he hasn't changed. Something in me wants so badly to let go of the last ten years and just beat the righteous crap out of him for what he put Lorne through, for what he did to us both, and I wish with all my soul Duncan had been wrong. But I can tell with all my intuition that he wasn't.

Four days ago, a tornado swept through town, devastating everything in it's wake. Lorne was a casualty of Mother Nature, and he couldn't be brought back. Death was final this time, and I personally saw to his remains. The funeral was held this afternoon, and the crowd that showed up was a true testament to the gift Lorne was to this sorry fucking world.

I stayed, and watched and I waited. I knew without a doubt in my mind that Angel would show up, to brood over what he'd asked Lorne to do to me. It's just his nature, and it's a little frightening how I can read him so well, that I'd known he'd show up. Christ, it's really galling, watching him stand near Lorne's grave, but I suppose even he must have some guilt over what he'd asked Lorne to do......yet Angel hadn't had enough courage to face him again while Lorne was still alive, and standing over a grave, being sorry, doesn't count for shit, although I'm sure even he must know that.

Angel looks as alone as he'd always tried to act like he was in Los Angeles.

I wonder if he misses his friends, knows how he took them all for granted, hurts for all the times he treated them wrong. I wonder if he thinks about the night before my death, or if he ever thinks about how he set me up, and talked Lorne into killing me, although it wasn't that hard of a sell, not after the performance I'd given Lorne the night before. Out of the three of us, I'm not sure who was the most foolish.

Me, for not being honest the several times I could have been, for driving both Angel and Lorne away with harsh, bitter, god awful words I'd never truly meant, and only said as a defense against the emotions that were tearing me up inside. Or was it Lorne, who had been acting as if he hated me, who had been so lost and confused himself, that those dismissing, cutting things I'd said to make him leave, leave before I broke down in front of him, because he'd known better, he'd known......and he'd pointed the gun at me and pulled the trigger, anyway.

Being me, of course, I simply want to lay all the blame on Angel, because that's easier than owning up to the evil I'd done. Angel had come to me, seeking a simple answer to one small question, a question I wouldn't answer, because he'd waited too long to ask it, and the events that followed haunt me to this day.

He managed to open a wound in me deeper than I could ever have imagined, let alone dreamed I'd ever know, and I was so angry, vulnerable, and in the end, so agonized over my desperate reactions that night, that I turned on him, throwing his own words back in his face, words I'm sure haunt his own dreams from time to time. I'm positive those words, spewed forth in thoughtless cruelty, were what signed my death warrant, because later I was too proud to tell him I hadn't meant any of it.

Yet, even knowing that it was my fault, all of it, I still _want_ to blame him, I still feel betrayed, and may the Gods forgive me, but a part of me still hates Angel and wants him dead after everything that happened.

 

_But that's not who I am any more, is it?_

It hasn't been for a long time now. I sigh, close my eyes and concentrate hard, letting the past and the rage fade away, melt away from me like ice cream, the way Willow taught me. It's an amazing technique, but it took me years to master it.

I often think of her, of them all, and I'm grateful beyond words they let my mentor take me in, and that they had the grace to teach me themselves, after I'd laid myself bare and told them who I was, what I'd done to someone they considered an ally, a friend, and for one person, a lover. I honestly thought they'd want me dead, the way Angel had, after all I'd done. Maybe a part of me even craved true death at that point, and perhaps they would have killed me, if not for Buffy.

It was talking to her alone, after she'd ordered the others out, when I finally broke down. I told her everything, didn't spare myself or Angel at all, just told her the honest truth.....including all the things I'd refused to tell him. And by some miracle, Buffy actually looked at me with something approaching respect, which confused me at first, yet in time, I did come to understand.

She saw a quality within me I'd never been aware of, like I was a diamond in the rough, something so tangible to her, she later said she could almost touch it, and they all worked damn hard to bring it forward. I learned so much from all of them, and it's a debt I'll have to work my damnedest to repay. I just wish the repayment was a different price than this, because this is really going to try my patience to it's limit.

I wonder if his shock will be greater than mine upon awakening from my first death, or Lorne's when I walked into his karoake bar that night several years ago. I can't help but anticipate the look on Angel's face when he realizes I'm not dead, after all.

I grin. Yeah, I'm still a little evil, still a little rough around the edges. Enough to feel some sense of pleasure at his rage when he finds out his betrayal of me ended in failure. His failure, not mine. For once. And God.....have I grown past my anger over that, when I can smile about it now, knowing right up until Lorne shot me, that I'd believed in Angel, finally? That I'd hardly slept the night before, coming to grips with the epiphany I'd had? That I'd trusted him, wanted to be on his team, thought I'd found my redemption, only to have it torn away from me by the brutality of a gunshot wound to the heart?

I sigh again. I suppose Angel had decided not knowing why I'd felt I deserved to have my heart ripped out daily for an untold amount of time didn't bode well, were the fight lost after all.

Or, well....perhaps, if I'd been honest with him, instead of flippant, when he gave me one last chance at the truth, even after that awful shit I'd said to him the night before, and asked me why I wanted to help him, maybe he wouldn't have set me up, and nearly destroyed Lorne in the process. Maybe.....maybe Eve wouldn't have died, crushed beyond recognition in the ruin of Wolfram and Hart. Maybe some of his friends would have survived the battle that put paid to the senior partners, and left mankind to stew in the evil of it's own making.

But......that's long in the past, and the future is what scares me.

The Powers led me right to Duncan, to the training ground that would allow both slayers to kill me on a regular basis, until I eventually held no fear of death, and learned everything I could absorb from all of them. I improved my skill with the sword, became one with the magic I'd let into my system, learned to fight at the hands of the greatest slayers the world had ever known.

I gained insight and knowledge in my friendship with Xander, who to my surprise and delight, didn't like Angel very much either. I'll always believe he's the most amazing one of them all, because he doesn't have power, or destiny, or immortality to guide his way. Only his heart and his belief in what's right and wrong, and his incredible loyalty to his friends. He argued, bullied, and dogged me until I let go of the bitterness I'd carried most of my life, and that led to something approaching forgiveness of Angel's dismissal of me from the beginning.

And of course, my own faults, my own mistakes, my own horrendous acts in the course of my employ at Wolfram and Hart. That was the hardest part to admit to, to own up to, to learn from, to come to grips with. To feel regret for the things you've done, and know in your heart you can never truly make up for any of it. You can only go forward, and attempt to atone as best you can.

I learned that from Faith, from seeing that look of devastation that comes over her face sometimes, when she's alone and thinks no one sees it. I've seen her push that feeling away, and go on to do her job. I've seen how much it costs her to continue doing it, and I know just how often she wishes she'd died when Buffy stabbed her. Not because she told me so, Faith would never admit that to anyone, but I know, because I understand her.

I watched her the way Duncan watched me, observing every little thing, every little change, until he began to believe what everyone else had from the minute we came into contact with each other. Plus, the man just got off on the idea of putting one over on Angel. Duncan got the unholiest grin on his face when he spoke of it, and he'd often wished to be present when I crossed paths with the vampire again.

That's why he forced me to learn all I did. He laughed like a manic when we fought, and taunted me mercilessly, until my anger got the better of me, which allowed him to kill me an untold number of times, until I learned to control that aspect of my personality.

He was with me the first time I took someone's head in combat, experienced the quickening, and he knows how wrong I think this turn in my life is, but Duncan told me that wouldn't matter in the game the Immortals played. My head would be as sought after as his own, because I'd gained knowledge and power in a short amount of time, compared to the centuries it had taken others, and gaining that from taking my head would be child's play, unless I stopped bitching and started believing in something.

Then Duncan set me free, with warnings ringing in my ears, truth clinging to my soul, and the harsh opinion that I still wasn't part of the solution yet. I may have been born Immortal, but he didn't think I had any part of their eternal battle. He said I was a thing apart from them, something alike yet different as night is from day.

Buffy thinks it's because of the time I was in the hell dimension. Willow believes it's because of the magic I learned to attempt Angel's overthrow as CEO of W &amp; H. Xander is firm in his belief that it's because I fought against the senior partners in the end. Faith insists that it's because I have no problem about doing what I have to, no matter the consequences. Dawn announced blithely that it was all of those reasons combined.

I walked away from them knowing I was still a target, I could still lose my head in battle, and I was still lost as to what my purpose was, as I had been when I met them. I'm not in control of my fate, I probably never had been, and for a control freak like me, that's a scary thing to realize and accept.

I walked into Lorne's bar a couple of years later. I hadn't known it belonged to him, hadn't dreamed I'd ever see him again. I'd only wanted a shot or two of whiskey, to dull the constant ache of the emptiness inside of me. The pain in his face when he saw me cut to the bone.

I'd never blamed him, except in those awful moments before my first death, but he couldn't have known that. He'd walked away, knowing he'd killed me, despite what he himself believed about me. The look on his face when he finally accepted that I'd forgiven him long ago made me momentarily burn bright with hate for Angel.

And when I told him, at long last, why I'd been so hateful to him that night, the look of compassion on his face nearly made me wish I'd kept my mouth shut, because I knew then that he understood all the things, untold even to my own self, that remained unsaid. Lorne saw it all, without my having to sing one note, and I've come to believe it hurt him in some fundamental way, knowing he should have seen it then, yet he hadn't.

I visited Lorne periodically, staying for weeks at a time, a welcome respite from my travels, my wandering, my search for my path.

He became my teacher, my mentor, in a way....he was my friend, something I'd had damn few of in my life. I watched Lorne, and I was amazed by him, in the way he reverted back to the person he'd been when I first met him. He listened to everyone, made no moral judgements, got his spirit back, and became whole within himself once more.

I learned compassion from Lorne. It's something I don't think I'd ever had in my life. Lorne made me smile, made me laugh, and he made me think. He told me things about myself, things I'd denied, and Lorne was never one to quibble with words, or worry about hurt feelings when he was dead serious about something. Even if it was what I considered the dumbest damn thing to ever come out of his mouth.

_God, I'm going to miss him._

Getting to know Lorne made me appreciate the value of friends. Walking through life alone, without a true purpose, it's become more than I can stand. Lorne told me that I've become reckless in my arrogance, and it's leading to no good. I know it's the truth. I can feel the warning coming at me through my senses, and I know I'm walking that fine edge between good and evil, once more.

This is a place I never wanted to be again, but I seem unable to walk the straight and narrow on my own. I'd come to rely on Lorne to keep me grounded, and now he's gone. The last time I saw Lorne, of all the things he'd said, what haunts me the most is him saying that when one door closes, another opens. I think maybe he saw his own death. And I think maybe he was relieved to be taken out of the game.

Now, I just feel lost, and I'm in a quandary about what to do here. Lorne's death has staggered me, and I really don't want to have to deal with Angel, but at the same time, it's all I can think about. I guess I'm.......kind of hoping I can learn to believe in Angel one last time. I'm hoping he'll give me the chance to. I need something to have faith in.

It's too awful believing in nothing. In no one. It leaves you with a cold, dead emptiness inside that invades your entire world, colors everything you touch, everything you see in shades of gray. I'm sick of it. I want to see the world in a way I never have before. I want color and light and fire, and I want to feel like I'm part of something that's not driven by any self-serving ambition of mine. And who knows......maybe in time I'll come to believe in myself.

I have to smile at the knowledge that Angel is who I'm turning to for those things, and the irony of what Duncan drilled into my head makes me grin even wider.

_There can be only one._

Funny how Lorne said the same damn thing.

 

_Effect_

 

Angel headed out of town, and Lindsey discreetly followed him at a distance, knowing the traffic due to the clean up efforts from the tornado would make him oblivious to detection. Not that he couldn't hide his presence from Angel, if he'd wanted to, which is what he'd done in the graveyard.

No, this was a small game of cat and mouse, and it gave him a thrill not using his magic to hide. In fact, it was as much of a rush as it had been cloaking his presence from Angel when he was CEO of Wolfram &amp; Hart. Maybe more so, because he never used his magics now, unless it was imperative he do so.

Close observation of Willow's devastating powers had effectively rid him of the desire to imbue his body with more magical properties than he'd already attained, a goal only partially realized, because the witch had made him learn to control what he had gained, and in the process, he'd unwittingly absorbed even deeper magics into his system. The classic Catch-22.

Of course, all this musing was just a way to avoid thinking about the coming confrontation with Angel, and while the greater part of Lindsey was looking forward to it, there was also the underlying urge to run screaming from the ensouled vampire, but that would smack of cowardice, and Lindsey might be many things, but a coward was not one of them.

No, what had him digging his fingers into the steering wheel with nervousness was the very real possibility that Angel would do nothing but sneer at his honesty, at his desire to help the vampire, and reject his offer out of hand.

Lindsey didn't want that to happen. He almost felt as if the Powers That Be were giving him what he'd wanted so desperately that night, after he'd driven both Angel and Lorne away. It was almost as if he'd been given back that moment in time when Holland Manners had offered him a promotion, and he'd had a choice.

This set of circumstances reeked of the same choice, only it seemed to him as if were his last chance, and he was determined not to fuck it all up as righteously as he had the first damn time. Even if he had to hog-tie Angel to get him to listen with an open mind. He grinned at the contradiction of that thought, imagining the scenario only too well, and he found it funny as hell.

His attention perked up when he saw Angel pulling into the parking lot of a bar, in this nearly deserted part of town. He wondered why on Earth the vampire would pick such a seedy spot, if he just wanted a shot or two of whiskey, because in that place.....Lindsey shuddered at what nasty swill they undoubtedly served as whiskey.

Angel must be in full-on brood mode, and Lindsey ruefully thought that didn't bode well for him, knowing how sarcastic and biting the vampire could be when in one of his black moods. But he dutifully pulled into the lot himself, knowing that this time, there could be only one choice. The right choice. Finally.

When he stepped out of his truck, his sense of cognition told him that Jacques Beauvais was still in town. The other immortal hadn't left after Lorne's funeral. Lindsey frowned at this added complication. Knowing the truce they'd come to during the years they'd both passed through town at the same time was now over, knowing also he had to walk into the bar after Angel, Lindsey looked around to take note of the abandoned state of the area the bar was located in, and how few vehicles were in the parking lot itself.

If it had to go down this way, they wouldn't have to go far, at any rate. He blew his breath out, closed his eyes, and inhaled deeply, willing himself into a slightly calmer state of being. Then he grimly followed Angel into the hole in the wall in the middle of nowhere good.

The vampire was sitting at the end of the bar, nursing what looked to be his second glass of whiskey. Shuddering again at even the thought of downing the stuff Angel was drinking, Lindsey straightforwardly walked up beside his former enemy, and told the bartender he wanted a bottle of beer, then he sat down on the stool right next to him. Angel looked over at him, and merely snorted to himself before he went back to sipping what passed for whiskey.

Of all the possible reactions Lindsey had imagined over the last ten years, total indifference had _not_ been among them. It was a little deflating to his ego. Frowning at the vampire, Lindsey said, "You aren't shocked to see me, Angel?"

"Hardly," Angel muttered. "Been expecting to see you ever since I heard about Lorne's death. Kind of figured you'd show up while I was at the graveyard, though. All the better to torture me, after all."

Lindsey frowned. _Had Angel known he was alive? Then why hadn't he ever attempted contact with Lorne?_ "Do you honestly think I'm that heartless that I'd do that, even to you?"

"Why the hell wouldn't you? You've only been screwing with me the last ten years. You ought to be thrilled to dig a little deeper, make the guilt a little more unbearable," Angel retorted."But that's okay. Go ahead, give it your best shot. I don't think I could feel worse, and if I get drunk enough, eventually, you'll fade away, and I won't have to look at his damn face any longer."

That last remark cut deep, but Lindsey didn't let it show outwardly. Instead, he thought _Been screwing with you for ten years? Does he think I'm a ghost?_ And then, it dawned on him what Angel thought he was. Reaching out, he placed his hand over Angel's, and said, "I'm not the First Evil, Angel. It's really me."

Angel looked down at the hand covering his with an expression that resembled shock. _"Can't be him. Lindsey's dead."_

"Yeah, technically, I did die, but--" Lindsey said, squeezing the vampire's hand just a bit to convey the reality of his touch, "It's me. I'm real. I'm alive. I'm not a figment of your imagination, or a manipulation of The First."

Angel traced the faint pink scar with a gentle touch, then moved to the inside of Lindsey's wrist. Finding a strong healthy pulse beating there, he whispered, "Did Lorne know you're alive?"

"Yes, he did," Lindsey softly replied. "I found him several years ago. We made our peace with each other, Angel."

Angel turned slightly toward Lindsey, and just looked at him for a long time, prompting Lindsey into wishing he could know what thoughts were going through the vampire's mind. "Is that why you're here now, to make peace with me?"

"Sort of, yeah," Lindsey answered. "I think we just need to talk things ov--"

Angel smiled, and moved so fast, Lindsey was caught totally off-guard, which had been the vampire's sole intention. He grabbed Lindsey's jacket, pulled him forward, and buried his face in Lindsey's neck, inhaling deeply. "Oh, hell yeah, it's you, Lindsey," he said.

"What the fuck--" Lindsey started to say, only to have his breath catch when he felt Angel vamp out. His brain went numb, and his body said _Well, hello there, Lindsey kink! So nice to see you again!_

Angel smelled of whiskey and smoke, in fact...he smelled really damn good, and he felt even fucking better, and Lindsey thought _Oh, shit, I'm so screwed._ He swallowed nervously and muttered, "Oh, hell."

"Mmm," Angel hummed, as he licked Lindsey's pulse point, sliding off the stool, standing, invading Lindsey's personal space even further. "You taste so damn good, Lindsey."

"Oh, shit, Angel, stop!" Lindsey said, attempting to push the vampire back, his heart beating rapidly with what he hoped was just fear, but his efforts only prompted Angel to move a little higher up his neck, to that hyper sensitive spot, and damn, that was just _so not fair_, because Angel _knew_ what it did to him.

Lindsey softly moaned, unable to silence the sound from escaping, thinking _God, this is Angel, you dumb shit! You know, Angel? The vampire who touched you and made you feel, made you care, made you regret, made you want, then turned around and ordered you killed, remember? You hate his guts.....don't you? Hell, Lin.....don't you?_

But his body seemed to have a mind of its own, and didn't seem inclined to give his brain room to think, as first a surge of adrenalin rushed through his system, followed swiftly by a wave of arousal so strong, it made Lindsey dizzy. _"Oh.....my.....God,"_ he whispered. _"Please tell me that this isn't happening again."_

"What's the matter, Lin? Your blood suddenly going places you don't want it to?" Angel said, grinning, and he first kissed the spot, Lindsey's hands stilled....stopped pushing him away, then the vampire sucked hard, bringing the blood to the surface under Lindsey's skin, without biting or breaking the smooth perfection of his throat.

Lindsey was clutching at his shirt now, panting softly, and the arousal that scented the air was nearly strong enough to knock Angel off his feet. He hummed, then continued licking the blood warmed surface.

"You really suck, Angel," Lindsey muttered, nearly breathless, fully aware of just how aroused he was, and he'd come to the unescapable conclusion that he _did_ want to be bitten by Angel, probably always had.......among doing.....other things he was _trying_ not to think about-

"Hmm....not yet, but if you ask nicely, I just might be persuaded to," Angel purred against the younger man's skin.

_"Oh, damn,"_ Lindsey groaned at the thought of being sexual with Angel again, because he hadn't forgotten one damn second of that night, and his entire body began humming with need now. _"Shit, I...I think my brain just crawled right into my balls,"_ he muttered.

Angel chuckled, and the sound reverberated through Lindsey, and he whispered, _"Oh, fuck it,"_ because he knew he wouldn't truly die, and he couldn't be turned, and he wanted this, wanted Angel, and....

_Why the fuck should he be coy about it?_

So the hands that had been trying to push the vampire away now pulled him into closer contact. He closed his eyes, tilted his head to give the vampire greater access, and said, "God, yes, Angel, do it. _Do it now._"

Angel moaned at Lindsey's capitulation, and he pulled the younger man into his embrace a little tighter, teasing both of them with suspense, but it had been so long since he'd tasted human blood, and Lindsey wanted it, wanted it desperately, by the sound of his voice.

Angel had always wanted to take Lindsey in this way, but he didn't want it all, just enough to feel his warmth inside. Enough to really know him this time, to claim Lindsey as his, to have him inside...forever.

He gently applied the tiniest bit of pressure with his fangs, and Lindsey moaned, pulling Angel closer still, until the vampire was standing between Lindsey's legs, and they were both so focused on each other, they'd completely forgotten everything around them.

As a consequence, they were both startled when a voice interrupted them.

"No one's _bitch_, huh, McDonald?"

 

 

_Challenge_

 

"Fuck!" Lindsey softly growled at the intrusion. He couldn't believe he'd forgotten about Jacques Beauvais. Damn! The two of them must make a pretty picture, indeed, to provoke that response out of the asshole. He sighed, as he heard Angel's low growl.

Deciding to let Angel's inner demon be a surprise, to be used later if needed, Lindsey whispered, _"Change back, Angel."_ And he felt the tension in the vampire's body as he did so, and Angel was clearly unwilling to move, but he did, after placing a tiny kiss on the blood mark he'd made.

"Later," Angel said, ghosting his hand down Lindsey's body, lightly grazing over the most sensitive part of him at the moment. He backed up out of Lindsey's personal space, a smile hovering on his lips at the younger man's gasp at his touch.

Lindsey was looking at him through heavy-lidded eyes. "Tease," he said, smirking.

_"Jesus, McDonald,"_ Jacques Beauvais said, smirking himself. "Another five minutes, and you'd have been bent over the bar, putting on a show for everyone to see."

Angel watched as the warmth in Lindsey's eyes faded away into something that looked as cold as death. He'd seen that deep cold in the younger man's gaze directed at him the night before they'd taken down the Circle of the Back Thorn, but now.....there was a ruthlessness in that gaze that had been missing before.

The vampire wondered what had happened over the last decade that had made Lindsey acquire that look. Seeing that coldness in those blue, blue eyes made Angel realize that there had always been a softness about Lindsey, a part of him that evil had never managed to reach.

Angel thought that perhaps he'd somehow actually managed to touch that warm part that was hidden in Lindsey that night, which made him also realize that here was another reason to prove to him that what he'd ordered done to Lindsey had been the wrong choice, in the greater scheme of things.

Lindsey turned to look at the other Immortal, sneering at the clothes Jacques Beauvais was wearing. Leather did nothing for the man, other than make him look like a poorly dressed Village People reject.

Leather was a look few people could successfully pull off. Angel, for example. Yeah, he looked damn good in leather. On Jacques, it looked ridiculous. Wanting to be a badass, and actually being one were two entirely different things, and he himself was only too aware of that fact. Wanting to be a badass had only gotten him killed, after all.

"Maybe you shouldn't have interrupted, then, Jacques. You might have gained an education in the fine art of seduction, since your method leaves something to be desired. You just don't have what it takes to get to me, but I believe I relayed that to you once, already. Force doesn't work on me, never has, never will. And I told you, _I'm no one's bitch_," Lindsey said, steely voiced, his entire being ready for anything this bastard would try. Lindsey wouldn't put much past him.

Jacques flicked his gaze over Angel, then looked back at Lindsey. "Oh? And just what does it take to _get to you_, pretty boy? Someone who's bigger than you, stronger than you, who can dominate you and make you move under him like a woman? Looks like you found a sugar daddy to me, one who likes to play rough. And you say you're not his bitch?"

Lindsey was torn between anger at being called _pretty boy_ and laughter at the thought of Angel being his _sugar daddy_. Fortunately, a combination of the two emotions won out. "You know, you really shouldn't take things at face value, you jackass. You know absolutely nothing about me, and you never have. You just keep pushing me to the limit, and you just went too damn far, Jacques. I don't appreciate being interrupted when I'm seriously busy, but you're just too stupid to know that, I guess. But I don't believe in killing someone over their own stupidity, and quite frankly, I don't know what's more pathetic, the way you talk or the way you dress. Do yourself a favor, and just walk away. It's that simple."

The Frenchman reacted the way Lindsey had known he would, he just wasn't expecting the form it took. Jacques slapped him right across the face with the leather gloves he held in his hand and hissed, "You son of a bitch! You're the one who's stupid. I'm going to take your head, pretty boy, dance on your grave, and laugh at your arrogance in thinking you could defeat me."

Angel, who had remained silent, just taking it all in, because he felt it wasn't his fight, growled and moved forward, only to be stopped by Lindsey's hand on his chest. He looked at the younger man, and was stunned to see a small grin of satisfaction playing about Lindsey's bloodied lips.

Lindsey shook his head no, and turned back to his nemesis, absently wondering when he'd learned to differentiate one growl of Angel's from another. He knew without asking that growl just emitted by the vampire meant _Don't fuck with what's mine._

Lindsey wiped the blood from his lips, and said, "That was so very, very ignorant, Jacques, as I'm sure you'll later learn. Tell me, where's Pierre, hiding as usual? Isn't he your second? Isn't that how you work? I'm not adverse to taking both your heads, if I have to."

Jacques smirked. "He's waiting." He looked at Angel. "Is lover boy going to be your second?"

Lindsey opened his mouth to say he didn't need a second, but Angel replied before he could. "Oh, I'm so there. You just made the mistake of your life, little man. If he doesn't kill you, I will. You aren't walking away."

Jacques looked into those bottomless dark eyes, and fleetingly wondered if he had, indeed, made a mistake. But he shook the thought off. He'd won too many times to doubt himself now. He effected quite an elegant bow, and said, "Gentleman, we'll be waiting." Then he glided off, still looking for all the world like Ken dressed in the Terminator's clothing.

Lindsey wanted to laugh, but he didn't. He slid off the bar stool, and Angel was right there, in his space once more, only this time it was to lick away the blood still remaining on his lips. It made Lindsey shiver, despite the fact that it wasn't even a kiss, just a soft cool gentle wet slide that felt so fucking good, he never wanted it to stop. There was a quick caress of the cheek that had been slapped, and Christ, now Lindsey thought it _was_ possible that he'd _just_ turned into Angel's bitch, after all.

Angel backed up slightly, and even though he had a suspicion about what was going on, he said, "What's this all about, Lindsey?"

Lindsey licked his lips, wanting to feel those cool lips back on his. Angel let out a tiny growl. Lindsey smiled, and said, "Well, I just got challenged to a duel, which I accepted. You agreed to be my second. Does it bring back memories, Angel?" The vampire just looked solemnly at him.

Lindsey sighed. "It's just.....bad blood between us, that's all. This was bound to happen, now that's Lorne's dead. Better sooner than later, I suppose. At least he came at me directly, instead of sneak-attacking me. I guess I have to give Jacques credit for that, didn't think he had it in him."

Lindsey paused, thinking. "Angel, would you do me a favor, if I don't win?" Angel nodded, his mind trying to connect the dots in the mystery that was _this_ Lindsey standing before him. He was just so damn different now. "If he takes me down, I want you to see my corpse burned. Don't let anyone take my body or my head."

Angel said, "That I can do. I promise. But.....what if you're the one who wins?"

"Then I guess...we'll see where we stand, then," Lindsey replied.

"Fair enough," Angel said. "But what is it you haven't told me, Lindsey?"

Lindsey grinned wickedly, looked Angel directly in the eyes, and said, "There can be only one." The grin got wider at the stunned look on Angel's face as he finally understood what Lindsey was. "Man, I wish Duncan could see your face. He'd laugh himself to into a grave."

"You know that asshole?" Angel blurted out.

"Yep," Lindsey said, turning around to leave, knowing Angel had his back.

_"Oh, God......your ass is so mine,"_ Angel muttered, following Lindsey.

"Maybe," Lindsey said, as he opened the door, then he turned around and winked at Angel. _"But I'm still not your bitch."_

 

 

_Duel_

 

They found Jacques and his second a couple of blocks away, waiting impatiently. Lindsey shook his head, turned to Angel and shrugged off his jacket. As he was rolling his sleeves up, Angel noted that Lindsey's opponent had a sword, and he started to ask where Lindsey's was, but he suddenly remembered the little magic trick Lindsey had pulled on Angel all those years ago. And sure enough, Lindsey pulled a knife out of his front pocket, then turned towards his opponent.

"Lindsey," Angel softly said. Lindsey turned back to look at him. "I....about what happened....I--"

Lindsey walked back to him, and stood as close as he could to the vampire. "Don't, Angel. We can talk about it later, okay?"

Angel looked into Lindsey's eyes, and whispered, "What if there's not a later?"

The blue in Lindsey's eyes deepened, he reached out, grabbed a handful of the vampire's shirt, and pulled Angel down to meet his lips in a wet, hungry kiss, that gave and took, and promised. Lindsey didn't stop until he was breathless, then he backed up just a little. "Later," he huskily whispered. Angel nodded yes.

Lindsey moved his head slightly, indicating Jacques' second, Pierre. "Watch him, will you?"

"I will," Angel said.

Lindsey grinned, turned around and walked a few steps away, then suddenly halted mid-stride. Without turning around, he said, "I swear by all that's holy, I didn't mean a word of what I said that night, Angel."

Angel said, "That's not fair, Lin."

"I know it's not....but I needed you to know that. Just in case," Lindsey replied.

Angel was quiet for a minute, then he said, "I believe you." The effect those three words had on Lindsey was immediate. From Angel's viewpoint, it looked as if the weight of the world had just rolled off Lindsey's shoulders. He was glad he'd said them, even happy that he'd meant them.

Just in case.

"Thank you," Lindsey softly said. He walked toward his opponent, and as he did the knife turned into a katana. And as he approached him, Lindsey thought on all he knew of the Immortal before him. He was a sadistic bastard, who got off on the pleasure some people took in pain. He fought dirty, often using his lover to distract his opponent, so he could gain the upper hand and make the kill. Lindsey really didn't want to kill Jacques Beauvais, or his lover, but there was no other choice. This was the one aspect of his immortality he hated.

"Did you say your goodbyes, pretty boy?" Jacques said, sneering.

"Yes," Lindsey said, then pointed his katana at Jacques. "My soul's clean. How's yours, Jacques? Been to confession lately?"

Jacques laughed. "What does that have to do with us, eh, little man?'

Lindsey smiled. "A man has to have something to believe in, Jacques Beauvais. Something to have faith in. Otherwise, what's the point to all of this?"

"There can be only one, Lindsey McDonald. That's the point. And it's not going to be you," Jacques said, then rushed forward, blade coming in an arc toward Lindsey, who easily blocked it.

"Maybe not," Lindsey replied. "But it won't be you, that much I promise."

Then the battle began, and Angel watched with growing amazement at Lindsey's technique. He was still cocky, he still traded witty quips with his opponent, but he was fighting with graceful, precise movements, nowhere near the flashy ones he'd used in their fight so many years ago. It almost looked like a dance. He wasn't smiling at the other man, the way he'd done during their fight, either. In fact, he looked deadly serious. Lindsey also looked dead sexy. Angel couldn't take his eyes off his former nemesis.

It was only some innate sense that made him look at the other immortal. Who was preparing to ambush Lindsey from behind with a sword of his own. Angel reacted without thought. He pulled a knife from inside his duster, and threw it with such force, that it sliced cleanly through muscle and bone, severing the hand that held the sword. Pierre emitted a blood-curdling scream, clutched his arm to his chest, and dropped to his knees. Jacques yelled, "Pierre!", then looked at Angel, murderous intent blazing in his eyes.

Lindsey locked gazes with Angel for a second only. There was a world of meaning in that glance. Then he switched his attention solely on Jacques, and the end of the duel was short, vicious and brutal. Sword met sword in fast, furious arcs, until Lindsey drove Jacques to his knees. And in a movement that stunned Angel in its finality, Lindsey swung his katana in a side sweep, removing his opponent's head from his body. Lindsey quickly walked over to Pierre, gazed numbly at the scene before him, looking as if he wanted to be sick. Then he softly said, "I'm sorry, Pierre," and he cut his head off, too.

Lindsey turned, walked a few steps away from the bodies, and stopped. The sword changed back into a knife, and he put it back in his pocket. He looked at Angel, whispered, "There can be only one," as if he needed to explain what the vampire had witnessed. But Lindsey appeared to be devastated at what he'd done.

Angel opened his mouth to tell Lindsey there had been no other choice, when he was stunned again. An eerie, electrical mist that reminded Angel of St. Elmo's Fire began to rise from the dead men, and it enveloped Lindsey, who was screaming as if in pain, in a swirling mini-tornado that took him off his feet, dangling him briefly in the air. Then the mist dissipated, dropping the younger man to the ground, where he lay unmoving.

Angel rushed forward, turned Lindsey over to see if he was alright. The young man was passed out cold. He strongly smelled of power, magic, pain and arousal. It was a very intense aroma, and Angel growled at the scent arising from Lindsey's inert body. The demon in him was screaming at Angel to just have at the young man, right here, right now. Angel glanced fleetingly at the bodies, realized he didn't have time to deal with them, then he picked Lindsey up, and left the scene.

 

 

_Awakening_

 

It was the feeling of cold air gliding over his face that disturbed him enough to awaken him. Lindsey came to awareness several miles outside of town, shivering in the night air. He gazed about him in uncertainty, until he turned and saw his former enemy sitting beside him, behind the wheel. His eyebrows shot up, and he grinned. "Kind of cold to be riding with the top down, isn't it, Angel?"

Angel smiled at him. "The way you smell, it was either put the top down, or eat you alive. Which would you have preferred, Lindsey?" When he didn't receive an immediate response, he looked over at the boy. Lindsey had the biggest shit-eating grin on his face Angel had ever seen.

"What a question, Angel," Lindsey replied. "Freezing my ass off or having you eat me up. What a choice that is. That really deserves some serious consideration." He grabbed his jacket from where it was laying between them, and slid it on. Then another thought hit him, and he laughed. "Did you just say I stink?"

"No," Angel responded. "I said you smell."

_"I smell? I smell?!?"_ Lindsey laughed even harder, "I smell and you wanna eat me alive."

Angel growled softly, Lindsey laughed harder, and the vampire muttered, "I didn't say you smelled bad. You don't. You just smell....um....really yummy."

_"Yummy!,"_ Lindsey yelped, and that description tickled him so, he started laughing so hard, he was almost howling.

Angel could tell he wasn't being _laughed at_, and he liked the sight of Lindsey being so amused, even if he'd felt a little foolish saying that, it had been worth it, just to hear him laugh so hard. Angel had the distinct feeling laughter hadn't been in Lindsey's life very often. He decided right then, to be sure it was there from now on.

And that thought stopped there. Angel wondered just _when_ he'd started thinking _from now on._ He looked over at Lindsey, who was winding down, having laughed himself out, and knew it wasn't even a question. _"Oh shit, I'm so screwed."_ Lindsey giggled, and Angel groaned, realizing he'd said that out loud.

Lindsey looked over at him and smiled. "I know exactly how you feel," he said. Angel glanced at him, and a shy grin appeared. That grin made Lindsey suddenly think it wasn't that cold, really. Nuh-uh. In fact, he could lose the jacket again. Because....warm now. The grin got wider, Angel looked back at the road, and Lindsey decided they needed a change of subject. Because....really warm now. "So, where are we headed? And- _oh shit- my truck!_ My stuff! We gotta go back, Angel."

Angel said, "We're heading to the next town, your stuff's in the trunk, your keys are in my pocket, and your truck is being kept in storage. I took care of that with a phone call. Was that okay? I mean, I figured the best thing was to get us out of there, what with the bodies and all. I didn't know what to do, so--"

Lindsey said, "No, that's okay. The watchers can take care of all that. They always do."

Angel said, "You guys have watchers? No shit?"

"Yeah, it's this whole big thing, and-" Lindsey looked at Angel. "It's not like a slayer's watcher, Angel. I've never seen mine. I just know he exists. Duncan's watcher is the only one I've ever met. It's not the same thing."

"Oh," Angel said. When Lindsey said nothing in reply, Angel looked back at him. The young man was looking at him very seriously. "What?"

"You're not gonna get all crushy and transfery on me, are you?" Lindsey said.

"No, I'm not going to be transfery. I promise," Angel smugly replied. Lindsey visibly relaxed. "I might get a little crushy on you, though."

Lindsey said, "Oh, really?"

"Yeah. Really," Angel replied.

Lindsey made a sound that Angel couldn't quite define. "Cool. I think that's only fair, since I might be having a few crushy issues myself. After all, I was going to let you bite me."

"What? You don't want me to now?" Angel said.

"I didn't say that," Lindsey replied. "I just never thought about the whole biting thing before, and I was sorta in the moment, and um.....well, hell.....it really turned me on, but.....um.....you weren't _just_ going to bite me, were you?"

Angel said, "No, it won't be just a bite, Lindsey."

"Oh," Lindsey said, at a loss for anything else to say, because his brain was stuck on that _won't be_. Damn, that meant Angel still wanted to.

"But....only if you what to. That's how it works, Lin," Angel said. "And...only when you're ready."

"Angel, it's not that I don't want to. But....I'm immortal. I don't think a claiming would work on me," Lindsey said, trying to think if he'd ever read of such a case before. He didn't think he had.

"That won't matter. *We'll know we did it, and that's all that counts,*" Angel replied.

Lindsey thought about it. He looked over at Angel. He thought about what he'd felt in the bar, when Angel was at his throat. A slow, sweet burn went through him, and it was something neither death or betrayal could ever touch. Lindsey knew it was there to stay. He didn't need to think about it longer. He shrugged the jacket off, and scooted over next to Angel.

The intense scent of Lindsey's arousal made Angel tighten his fingers on the steering wheel. He glanced down into the younger man's face, and he didn't need to ask. He could see Lindsey's answer in his eyes, smell it on his body. Angel didn't stop to think, he just acted, pulling the car over, putting it in park, shoving his seat back, and pulling Lindsey onto his lap.

Lindsey whispered, "Angel." Then he bent his head down, slid his lips across the vampire's, teasing him, licking at them gently until Angel opened his mouth. Lindsey slid his tongue inside, kissed Angel slowly, deeply, with all the hunger he felt. And Angel's heated response made everything before this kiss pale in comparison.

The vampire slid his arms behind Lindsey, to cup his ass in them, and he pulled Lindsey forward, until their cocks came into contact. Lindsey moaned into the kiss, and they began to rock against each other for several long tortuous moments. Lindsey finally had to break the connection of the kiss, to gasp for air. He placed his forehead against the vampire's and shakily whispered, _"My God, Angel."_

"Shh, Lindsey. I know, " Angel softly said. "I feel it, too." He pushed Lindsey back slightly, and slowly unbuttoned his shirt, and then he ran his hands slowly up the younger man's chest, fingernails lightly grazing over the nipples. Lindsey bit his lower lip and moaned. Angel's right hand continued up, until he touched the blood mark he'd made earlier.

A fine tremor shook Lindsey's body, and his hands worked to free them both from the fabric that separated them from rubbing together skin on skin. When he got them free, he encircled both cocks within his hand, began a teasing, mesmerizing up and down motion, leaning forward to kiss the vampire once more.

Angel moaned, rocking himself in Lindsey's grip, which was now slick from the moisture of their pre-come. They moved against each other until the vampire sensed that Lindsey was close to orgasm, then he moved away from the younger man's mouth, and kissed his way to the pulse point. Licking it gently, marveling at the racing beat that urged his fangs to drop, Angel waited for Lindsey to give verbal consent.

_"Yes,"_ Lindsey raggedly moaned. _"Take me, make me yours, Angel, please."_ He moaned as he felt the sharp pain as Angel slid his fangs into his neck, but that swiftly faded as the vampire began slowly sucking.

Sweet bright pleasure slammed into Lindsey at the pulling sensation, and his body pulsed as he climaxed. He was so sensitized to the moment, he felt and later remembered everything: the gentle cold breeze blowing, the brightness of the stars shining down on them, the smell of their combined seed trapped between them as they both came, Angel retracting his fangs and licking the wound closed, then kissing again, and the taste of Angel's own blood mingled within the kiss, and arms holding him in a gentle, yet firm embrace as they both calmed down.

After a long while, Lindsey whispered softly, "So, was that your way of asking if I wanna stick around?"

"Yeah, I guess it was," Angel replied.

Lindsey grinned against Angel's chest. "Okay. I can deal with that. But I'd prefer to be in private the next time we're together, alright?"

"Fine by me," Angel agreed. "Wouldn't mind telling me why, would you?"

"I know you heard those two trucks going by. I was just too hot to care at the time, but damn, Angel. I'm not that much of a freak, ya know," Lindsey said. "So......how long till we're in the next town?"

"About 30 minutes or so. Why? You're not gonna ask me that every five minutes, are you?"

Lindsey laughed. "Nah. I just seemed to recall you said you wanted to eat me alive, and I wondered how long I was gonna have to wait to find out how yummy you really think I am."

Angel groaned.

"Oh, yeah. One more thing," Lindsey said.

"What?"

"I'm still not your bitch."

 

 

The end.


End file.
